Dad would have been 72 tomorrow, Friday.
It’s at times like this that it strikes you how much you miss him. He’d have been in his element at some point over the weekend as we held a BBQ for him.
Him, pretending he didn’t want to be the centre of attention and loving every minute of it.
Me, telling Big Gagy Morrison not to swear too much – they always fell out at his parties – the lovable rogues that they are.
At some point over the night he’d have pulled a face like this
It’s amazing how redolent this photo of him is. His character. His individuality. I’m feeling very sad now. I have to go.